Faith
by betalight
Summary: This takes place when Lex is turning evil and Clark is having morality issues. Seems like Faith decided to take things into her own hands.
1. Before the Beginning

Chapter One: Before the Beginning

"_I don't like this. I don't like this at all."_

_"Shaddup. He'll hear us."_

_"Yeah? He'll hear us anyway. Whoever he is..."_

"SHHHHHHHH!!!"

_"Fine! Hmph. Bastard."_

_"You'll pay for that once we get out of here."_

_"Oh, well excuse me while I quake in my adorable, yet oh so stylish faux-designer boots! NOT. Gawd. Quit being such a grade-A ass."_

"SHUT -"

**Creeeeeaaaakkkkk.**

_"What...what was that...?"_

_"Shut-up you idio-"_

"WHO'S THERE!?"

_"SHIT!"_

_"SHIT!"_

_"RUN AWAY, RUN AWAY!!!"_

That was how it all started, I suppose. We were just doing an innocent prank. Well, that's what I told the police, anyway. I had just graduated from college, after all. They expected kids like me to pull off innocently stupid vandalisms like this one seemed to be. But it wasn't, not really. Ah, shit. I bet you're all confused now, huh? Dad was so right. I suck majorly at telling stories. I think I should've started this little story a bit earlier, huh? OK, then. Rewind to my high school graduation. No...wait...no...yeah. It was probably about then when the thought first entered my stupid, stupid head.

The snow was falling down upon our heads softly, and the slight puffy sound the flakes made as they touched the accumulated snow banks was making me sleepy. Oh, yeah. I went to a high school in Alaska. A really weird one. Where the schedule was really different because all the teachers didn't want the bane of organized scheduling skills to ruin our creativity or whatever it was they said. You know all that 'Don't let the man get you down!' shiz. My parents lived for that stuff. Before they died. Anyway, it was graduating ceremony time, and everybody's face was all frozen in tears and all that mushy stuff. It was really quite beautiful, actually. I love wintertime. Snow is always so pretty and sweet. Makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside and normal outside. Mmmmmm...hot cocoa...

So when the graduation was over I was walking through the empty chairs, remembering stuff before I had to go back to my evil foster family. They were like Cinderella's family, but bitchier plus an evil fake-dad, too. But back to the point, I came upon this really whack article about the party scene in Metropolis. Funny, I know, but I had never been to a party before. So I snatched up the thing, and looked at all the happy faces. It was like some sort of epiphany. The chorus was there and the strobe light was on, center stage. I had been searching for something to do to get out of this nightmare of a life. Metropolis was like the lost golden city or something. Or maybe not. Too busy talking to you to work out the metaphor. Anyways, like I was saying, it was like the answer to all my problems. They looked so happy. So I got on a bus after taking all the money out of my bank account. I had gotten a few jobs at some stores and stuff over the summer once I turned 18 and legal and all. It was going to all be spent on a good book or something else like that, but that could wait until I was happy or partying or both. To make things short, I got there after a bunch of creepy encounters and a really long, drawn out romance thing that I do not want to talk about right now, as it still sucks ass.

So I got there and applied for a crapload of colleges on full scholarship. Ya know, since my grades had been pretty damn good back in glacier zone. I got into some college whose name I really don't feel like telling you. Because I'm a bitch today. And also because I kind of forgot the name, since I only went to class for the tests and diploma requirement things. I was too busy working to get bored in the classroom. I never went to even one infamous college party, though. Sucks to be me, I know. No parties for me. That idea bit the dust when I walked by one once and got an instant headache. There goes the cool partying biker chick image I had constructed of myself in my head. Poof, there went my wish to one of the happy partiers. Well, that isn't so true, I guess.

I went to one other party before that. And that is the real reason I'm here telling you this shitty story in the first place. So I can look back on this fondly when I am old and stupid to remind myself of the people I hated and to keep up grudges. In case I turn out to be one of those batty old happy ladies when I'm old. They're cool people; I just want to stay the way I am now. The party experience was exceedingly embarrassing. Ugh. I was intent upon informing you of all the nitty-gritty details just to be the impartial narrator and stuff, but I just can't do it. I can't. Suffice it to say, it was the first time I actually enjoyed having sex. And no, I'm not some girl who's finally decided to come out of the closet or whatever; it's just that after I lost my virginity, I really didn't like it. Until then. But he was cold, man. He left pretty soon. Like, seconds soon.

So I spent a boring, monotonous time in Metropolis until I graduated (finally) and got my first job: unemployment. And that is how I became a vandal. I was hired by this sketchy dude (always bad idea, the ominous music should have warned me I was walking into a hackneyed horror movie situation. But what can I say, I was desperate.). He said he would pay me for a little odd job (Again with the music. Where was it?!). He would pay a lot. I accepted. I didn't know what he wanted to do, I just was there for moral support, I suppose. Or at least, that's what I thought. And now I'm back to the actual prologue before I felt I needed to go before the beginning again to explain some stuff. So...yeah. Anyway, the cops found us. He split. I was caught holding the proverbial bag. Or holding whatever those proverbs held. Whatever. Anyway, so I got jailed, and then released on lack of evidence. Nice, huh? And now I had a rap sheet to go on my previously empty resume.

And that is the reason my life reached a whole new level of crappiness. I have one word for you: LutherCorp.

Ickiness abound.

A/N: I know, bad narrator-ness abound, huh? Well, this is the only time I'll be letting her do the storytelling. I just felt like this would be a good beginning. I haven't seen any of the recent Smallville episodes, so this is what I always kind of felt like writing once Lex started turning evil and grey matter came up with Clark and Lana left for good and Pete had problems and Chloe was cool and all.


	2. Rain Dance

Chapter Two: Rain Dance

Job arranged his pencils carefully. He found that he could never function correctly without cleaning up his pencils and arranging his pens by color. If only the world could be as simply organized, there would be no problems. Once the desk was suitably rearranged and revamped, he turned to the large stack of papers on his right side and meticulously picked up the first one on the stack as the door burst open. He looked through the glasses perched on his nose at the name on the resume and then looked up with wide eyes to see –

I knew this was a bad idea. This hoity-toity cesspit-scumbag ain't gonna hire me. But it said in the newspapers that they were recruiting. So I thought, come on girl, isn't like you have anything to lose by applying to LutherCorp or something. I shouldn't have come. I shouldn't have been so damn optimistic. It was the coffee talking, the vengeful spirit that channeled through my tired, desperate body at about two in the morning as I looked at my unpaid bills. I mean, really. My apartment is so tiny a fucking squirrel would reject it, and it costs more than a picturesque cottage in Kansas. Stupid cities.

So, there I was, looming over some obsessive compulsive freak with pocket protectors on his shirt-pocket. What a geek. And what was he looking at? So my clothes weren't exactly conservative, strictly speaking, but I was wearing my best outfit for this damn interview. My nice fishnets and my relatively hole-free black cargo capris complete with a red shirt and spike-collar. That's right. Actual matching, colored articles of clothing that fit. And I'm even wearing all of my best rings on each finger. And these earrings and piercings didn't exactly come cheaply, ya know? It took an hour to put on this mascara and makeup. You think I like my black hair to be silky smooth?

Then I saw it. The resume from hell. It sat there like that ring of ultimate power in _The Lord of the Rings_, you know, the bringer of doom and all that jazz. I'm like the dark lord; that resume will follow me like some evil specter for all of eternity, I swear. He must have seen that the only thing on it was my stay in prison and my college degree. I wish they didn't require those stupid things. I didn't have the chance of a kitten in hell with that damn slip of shit. Although, my recommendations were all pretty good and from reliable, trustworthy people. So there was still some hope.

I sat. He twitched. Silence fell over the room.

I was gonna keep my stupid mouth shut this time. Last interview I had, at the meat market, I had babbled on about how much I hated vegetarians and wanted to kill the lot of them to this violent looking butcher. I thought he liked angry, disturbed people, so I played the part. Yeah, not such a hot idea. It turned out his beloved daughter was a vegetarian and a pacifist. So this time, I wouldn't say anything. I would keep my big, fat mouth shut. Zip the lip.

"So, Faith. Tell me why we should hire you with these dubious recommendations." The guy was staring at me like I was some sort of sticky ol' dust bunny in his shoe. You know the score, that condescending stare.

My mouth opened and closed in indignation. Hey...Bobby the Bringer of Pain was a very reliable source, I'll have you know! He always spoke the truth...usually right before he killed you. But it's the thought that counts. Truth and good intentions just don't cohabitate all that often.

He was looking at me all weird. Shiznit. I can't shut up if he asks me to talk! Maybe I can pretend I'm mute. That's it! But...I don't know sign language...I shifted my eyes over to where the dude is yawning like a pretentious pig right in my face. _Asshole. I'll give you something to yawn about._ "I'll tell you why you should hire me, you poor little bastard. I got mad skills. Like, I know how to knock a biatch unconscious in thirty seconds flat. I could tie you up and hang you out the damn window if I freakin' wanted to. So don't you take a tone with me, boy, or I'll bring the pain." I growl. Then I realize what I just said. _Stupid, stupid mouth, why the hell did you do that!_ "Um...I mean...I am really good at...uh...accounting?" I try to look innocent. The dude was looking at me like he wanted to send me to the funny farm. I couldn't blame him. I'd like to send me to the funny farm sometimes too.

Then the door opened again and this bald guy walked through briskly. I snorted at the sight of him and dismissed him immediately. A moneybag player, if I ever saw one. He looked unbelievingly at me as I glared at him. Got a problem with that, mister Rogaine? Shove it. I raised my chin defiantly in his direction and turned back to my interviewer. Huh. He looked a little scared as he saw the baldie. Like he may be worth my time or something. As if.

"Good – good morning Mr. Luther," he squeaked. The guy ignored the mouse act and walked right past me.

"Well, have you finished hiring my staff yet? I need to get moving. Now." I looked at the guy. _Luther, huh?_ He must be the renegade son. He was worth a double take at the very least, then. I liked the way he talked. Like he really knew what he was doing. It was like that captain guy on Star Trek.

The guy was looking desperate now. "Um, I have...one more person to hire..." his eyes shifted...well...shiftily.

Luther glared. "Job, I told you I needed my staff today, you imbecile."

The guy squirmed. "I-I know! It's just that..." he looked at me desperately. _Oh no...what the hell does he think he's doing – _"I was...meeting? Yes, I was meeting with the last recruit now to make sure she was acclimating well to the work force!" He beamed triumphantly. "And-and she says yes! And she is a really efficient bodyguard, just like you wanted. In fact, she was just telling me about that a few minutes ago!"

I stared. "Hey now! Slow down a minute there, freak-zoid! I didn't say that!" I heated up my death ray eyes and prepared the death laser glare. Rrrrrrr...He sat back in fright of my evil eye. Luther boy chuckled. What did he know, the little daftie. Nothing, that's what.

"Do you want to be employed or not, Miss..." Luther boy looked at me inquisitively.

"Faith. _Ms._ Faith." I glared at him and then realized what he was saying. "Uh...sure. Why not." I shrugged. It's not like I had anything better to do, besides sleeping. Which was, actually, way better. Hmm...maybe I should -

"Good. Give _Ms._ Faith the details." He tossed over his shoulder to Job-boy. I grinned evilly. _Yesss. I _win_, anal-man. MUAHAHAHAHA! And we WON'T be meeting again._ "Heeheehee." I chortled with glee outside and inside. Luther grinned as he left. Ha. I saw it. Mr. New Boss liked my sense of humor. That was so a first. Usually people think I'm just weird or don't get my jokes.

The guy looked at me with a carefully impassive expression. "Very well, then, Miss. You will be leaving with Mr. Luther when he returns to Smallville tomorrow. Be prepared and present at 4 a.m. sharp.

"Yeah, whatever. It's **_Ms._** _Faith_, simpleton."

A/N: Yay! New chapter and stuff is explained and done. Goody. And now it is time to switch P.O.V.'s. And just you wait until you hear what he has to say about the sitch.


	3. Better Off Dead

Chapter Three: Better off Dead

"You suck."

Great. Just great. It seems like Job has managed to hire yet another disturbed youth to be my bodyguard. I should definitely fire him once I reach home. His ineptitude is appalling. What was this one's name again? Oh, yes. "Isn't a defining characteristic of faith supposed to be silence?"

"Ha-ha, not funny, you moron." Well, at least she has a healthy sense of humor. Not. Maybe I'll postpone firing her until next week. "Why don't you just crawl up a hole and die?" Then again, maybe not.

I choose to ignore that question on the grounds that it is probably rhetorical. "Be silent."

"Bite me." Okay, then, never mind about that.

Thank god, the plane is here. I can get rid of this nuisance. The pilot comes out of the cockpit and reaches me, shaking my hand. "Mornin', Mr. Luther. Me name's Mike, Ah'll be yas pilot today. Ye jess cloimb up thurr, me an' this gal'll take care of th' rest." I nod as I try to puzzle through his thick accent of undetermined origin.

"HEY! I never agreed to 'take care of the rest,' that isn't part of the job description!!"

Well, this is nice. I now have a way to get rid of the annoying bodyguard. I walk onto my plane without saying anything.

"Hey!! No fair!"

_Humph._ I hate this job. Stupid planes. Stupid bosses. Stupid Luthers. Stupid world. Stupid weird, probably fake accents. Stupid, stupid stupidness.

And what's this?! The guy is just walking away. I thought he said we would take care of the stupid rest of the stupid baggage and stupid other stupid boss' stuff. He looks back at me. I suppose he is trying to get me to follow him. Fine. I will.

Stupid idiot.

We come to the baggage belt as I drag Mr. Stupid-Head New Boss-Boy's ridiculously heavy luggage in my wake. I plop them onto the conveyer belt and huff off into the plane as the loser worker man with the fake accent tries to look smart enough to talk intelligibly.

_Ouch._ I can't believe I just tripped over those stupid steps. I walk into the plane and gasp. _Whoa. Sweetness times…whoa…_

This plane is nice. Like, mansion on wings nice. You know what I'm saying on this one. A girl could get used to this sort of thing. Man. Places like these make me kind of wish I was rich…except without all the work and baggage stuff that rich people usually have. And I don't want to be ugly and old either. So...maybe not, after all.

Oh boy. There's Mr. Luther. Sheesh. You'd think that in a plane this big he would have the common courtesy to not bug his bodyguard. Geez. People like this are the real reason murderers exist.

"Shouldn't you be doing your job or something?" He looks at me curiously. _Huh?_

"Huh?"

"Why don't you make sure everything is secure?"

"Why don't y_ou_ make sure everything is secure."

"That's _your_ job." He looks at me incredulously. Boy, do I want to kill him now. What is with this guy? _Ooh, I know! He's **evil**._

"So tell me. How hard is it to think up nefarious plots? Do they just pop into you're head, or do you slave away at creating and perfecting them?"

"Oh, usually they just –w_hat?"_

"If you don't know, I'm not telling." I return his suspicious look times ten. He's supposed to be a genius. _Figure it out, Baldman._

I walk over to the opposite of the plane and lie down on two of the seats. "Now leave me alone, I need to get my beauty sleep."

"What about the coffee?"

"Umm…thanks, but no thanks. Don't want to turn radioactive or stunt my growth or something right now. Not in the mood."

"Let me phrase that better. Where is my coffee? Get it."

"No. Buzz off."

He sighs and I hear papers rustling. _Heehee. I win!_ Good. Now he's gonna go do his work and I can finally get my well-earned beauty –

**_EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESMASH!!!_**

I sit up and look out the window by my head. Wait…why is the ground sideways? Oh shizzle fizzle _shit._ We're crashing..._SHITshitshitshitSHITshitshitshitshitshitSHITSHITSHIT!!!_

Oh god. I can see the ground. Very close-up. _Shit!_ This is SO not good. Why did I ever go on this plane?! Oh, _THAT'S_ right; I had to go goddamn _work_!

I always knew my career would be the end of me.

_Stupid day job._

A/N: So, that would be that. Ummm…my character was original, but when I thought up the faith plot I had this immediate thought of how much I liked Faith's character in _Buffy_. So, my character got meaner and more pissed off at stuff. Since characters like that are just way more fun to write. Also, I was extra angry at the world that day, so my character reflected it. And then I read it two days later and decided to stick to the character, even though I had to change to whole stoopid plot. Heehee. I love my blatant over usage of the word 'stupid' in this story.

On a more serious note, I must now disclaim any prior or possible claims made up by possible people who like the aforementioned claims. See, Baldman? No touchy.


	4. A Palm Tree A Dozen

**Chapter Four: A Palm Tree a Dozen**

I woke to see the blue sky. Cerulean blue. I think. I could never tell what writers meant when they described something as Cerulean, anyway. A cloud floated across. It looked like…a bird? a plane? No, a bald head!

"…_Ugh_." My employer…that stupid Luther…oh yeah…we crashed, didn't we? I sat up straight, checked my body, stood, jumped around. Everything seemed to be in working order, no real aches except for a headache and a few bruises. Understandably. Just to make sure, I hopped a little more, waving my arms and rotating my torso like some deranged aerobicaholic from L.A.

Speaking of deranged rich people, where was Luther? I looked around me. How did we even survive, for that matter? I shrugged. Dumb luck, I guess. But again, where was Luther? If it was dumb luck that saved us, you'd think he'd be prancing about completely untouched.

I had been lying in the aisle of the plane. It looked like the flight people had been crushed with the cockpit while trying to land. I tried to think as little as possible about their fate. I hoped Luther hadn't gone the same way.

"I hope…what?" I questioned, shaking my head. I wasn't as over my whole kind-hearted girly girl thing as I'd thought if I was still worrying over the well-being of some aloof, spoiled poncy boy.

Luther had been seated a few rows away. I walked down the aisle, looking in each row, squinting through the grainy light the cracked windows provided. "Luther? Luther? LUTHER? LUTHER, YOU IDIOT, WHERE ARE YOU!" I called, making my way through. Where was he? He couldn't have just disappeared into thin air! What if he was dead? Oh no, what if he was dead. I'd never -

"Uuuuuhhhhnnn…" I snapped to attention. A sound! Was it…? I quickened my pace, searching more hastily now. And then – a foot encased in leather, followed by a leg, followed by a torso, followed by…Luther's drooling, sleeping face. Disgusting.

I walked up to him and poked him on the arm. "Luther." No response. "LUTHER, WAKE UP!" Nothing. I prodded him harder, then whacked him in the chest. He flinched, coughing, and his eyes flew open.

"Wh-who…?" He whispered, searching my face with questioning eyes. I blinked in response.

"Uhh…" Great. Brilliant, Faith. But I couldn't help it. He sounded so different when he wasn't being all sarcastic and busy. I cleared my throat and tried again. Clearly I was more traumatized by the crash than I was willing to admit. "You know, your body guard."

"Ah…" He closed his eyes again.

"Dammit, Luther, if you go to sleep on me -"

"Faith. Ms. Faith." His eyes were on me again. I stopped accusing and nodded.

"Brilliant deduction, Sherlock."

"Brilliant security check, bodyguard."

"Yeah. You're welcome." I glared at him. If he was going to be that way…well, he'd learn just how crappy I could be.

He held his stern gaze until suddenly he burst out laughing, tipping his head upwards, neck convulsing, chest heaving, with no sound actually escaping. "Oh what's the point?" I stared. Was he having some sort of breakdown? He abruptly stopped laughing and resumed staring at me with his glassy eyes. "So."

"What." I gritted. He was going to put me down again, I knew it.

"Any others survive?"

"Doubtful. The cockpit looked a bit crushed to me." He closed his eyes.

"Where are we?"

I thought for a minute. "Good question."

He laughed his soundless laugh again. "Great. Is there any way out?"

"Out of where?"

"Out of this plane. This death trap." His eyes reopened as he craned his neck to look around.

I shrugged. "Another good question. I'll go check." I wandered towards the nearest exit and tried to raise the bar. It lifted with a creak, and the door slid open a few feet before stopping. Good enough. I leaned through the crack and looked out to see…

Palm trees. Shade. Forest. Everywhere. And was that…water? I peered through the gaps in the trunks, a far-off glitter catching my eye. I'd seen that type of glitter before. Not on Mardi Gras, not at a disco, but…at the sea.

"Hey, can you help me out here?" Luther's voice came from within, muffled.

"What? Why?" I yelled in reply.

"I can't stand." Came his flat response.

Great. Now I had to carry him like some sort of new bride. Through a plane wreck. By a beach. With no civilization in sight. The birds, making a racket up in the foliage, laughed at me.

Great.

**A/N:** Hey, look! I UPDATED! Now, don't think this is some sort of trend. I honestly don't know if I'll be able to do this again until summer or beyond. But if the plot strikes again and I just have to write, well, then, until then! Hope you liked it! Please let me know. It would be nice to hear from anyone still following this story, or from newcomers.


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